While the palacca wasn’t high enough for the guns to strike it, the pirates who had already begun to climb aboard the brig suffered terrible casualties, flying back with scrap metal in their bellies. Meanwhile, the marines in the rigging had begun to fire at the survivors. One of them shot the pirates’ captain dead on the spot.
The pirates who had so far avoided injury swarmed onto the brig brandishing pistols and swords. Zachary froze where he was, uncertain as to what to do. The powder monkeys had not been issued weapons and were supposed to retreat below, but he was determined to fight ─or die in the attempt ─ as he knew he would never tolerate being a slave. He backed slowly towards the starboard rail as he surveyed the scene; His mind was racing, trying to decide on a course of action.
The noise on deck was loud and confusing. There were yells and screams of pain. Bodies thudded on the deck and pistols discharged. Near him a pirate fell to the deck, dropping his sword as he did.
Zachary raced forward, grasped the sword, and looked around for a target. His gaze fell on the quarterdeck, where Mr. Stanley was dueling with a pirate, a giant of a man. Instinctively, Zachary knew he had to help. Racing towards the quarterdeck, he leaped up and landed just in time to see the pirate manage to flick the midshipman’s sword out of the boy’s hand and send it flying. The pirate put the point of his sword on the boy’s throat and said something in Arabic. Zachary had no idea what the man had said, but he seemed to be gloating and anticipating slaughtering the midshipman. All of this happened very quickly. When the pirate heard Zachary land on the quarterdeck, he turned towards the sound just as Zachary thrust his sword up into the man’s side. The man looked startled for a moment as Zachary withdrew his sword and shoved it in again, this time directly up into the man’s chest. The pirate’s eyes rolled back in his head, and he fell to the deck, dead.
Meanwhile the midshipman had passed out and was likewise lying on the deck. Zachary went to him, and in a moment the boy stirred and his eyes fluttered open.
“What happened?” he asked.
“The pirate’s dead,” said Zachary. “You have nothing more to fear from him. But unless you can fight with more skill, you should probably get out of sight.”
Mr. Stanley nodded, and Zachary left him there, surprised that he had spoken that way to an officer. He returned to the main deck and immediately found himself directly behind a large Arab who was fighting with one of the Zachary gunnery ‘s mates. Without thinking, the powder monkey plunged his sword up into the man’s back. Surprised, the man dropped his guard and a crew member finished him off. It was only later that the boy wondered whether it was unfair to stab a man in the back, but he didn’t let it bother him.
Slowly, the pirates were beaten back towards the larboard rail. As they were pressed by the crew, they vaulted over the side and down into their boat. There was some confusion as they found their captain dead, but they cut the grappling ropes and managed to disengage from the brig and begin to move away.
The captain bellowed, “Man the guns.”
While there were several gunners who would never fire another weapon, those that remained knew the drill well enough to prepare the carronades for firing.
Captain Whitmore waited until he judged the pirate vessel to be at the right distance and angle and ordered the guns fired. The balls flew out of the guns and towards the pirates. Three large holes at the palacca’s waterline appeared. It didn’t take long for the ship to sink. To the crew of the Bradford it was evident that most of the pirates could not swim. That was not really surprising, because most of the brig’s crew couldn’t swim either. Some of the pirates thrashed around for a bit, but eventually they all sank and there was an eerie silence.
Zachary looked about the deck at the dead and wounded. Mr. Carruthers, the surgeon’s mate, moved about among them, telling crewmen to take certain of the wounded to his quarters.
Zachary turned and saw Tony, lying on the deck in a pool of blood. A sword had been slashed across his abdomen and he was trying to hold his intestines in. Zachary hurried to him and knelt down. The wounded boy was still alive. He looked up at Zachary and asked, “Did we win?”
“We did,” Zachary replied. Then he called loudly for Mr. Carruthers. The man came over, took one look at Tony and said, “There’s nothing I can do for him.”
“Can’t you sew him up or something?” asked Zachary.
“No. He'll be dead in another ten minutes or so.”
Zachary started to cry. “It’s okay,” murmured Tony, “At least I’m not going to be a slave.”
As tears flowed down Zachary’s face, he thought back to his own determination at the beginning of the battle and realized that Tony was right. He took his friend’s hand and held it gently until, with a final sigh, the boy died.
All the dead pirates on the deck were thrown overboard by the crew. The dead Americans were laid out respectfully to be prepared for burial at sea. Zachary and another powder monkey added Tony to the collection.
Then they all set to work cleaning the deck. There was no question about who was on watch and who was not. Everyone, even the marines, pitched in. With the amount of blood and gore on the deck It took many hours and much of the work had to be done by lantern light. At last the deck was considered clean, and the boatswain announced that the burial of the dead sailors would take place in the morning. Some went to their hammocks and tried to sleep. Zachary spent the rest of the night sitting beside Tony, thinking of how the boy had helped him when he came aboard and what a good friend he had been. In fact, he had been the first person whom Zachary had ever considered a friend.
As soon as it was light, men began to cut up old sails and sew them into body bags. Before Tony was placed in a bag, Zachary leaned over and kissed him. Cannon balls and other weights were added to the bags so that they would sink to the bottom of the sea.
At six bells of the morning watch, all the men gathered on the deck and removed their hats, as Captain Whitmore read a brief burial service. When he finished, the first body was placed on a board. Men balanced it on the rail before raising the end of the board and the body slid silently into the sea. When it was Tony’s turn, Zachary held a part of the board and then raised it with the other men, saying a final, silent goodbye to his friend.
Meanwhile, the merchant ship had been waiting only a short distance away. A boat came over to the Bradford, and the captain of the Mary Day came aboard. He spoke to the crew members still gathered on deck and thanked them for defeating the Arabs and keeping his ship safe.
Soon, the two ships were once again moving west in tandem towards Gibraltar.
Zachary went through the motions of doing his duties during his watch, but his heart wasn’t in it. For the first time in his life he had seen warfare up close and he hated it.
Once, when he happened to walk near the quarterdeck, Midshipman Stanley walked quietly over, leaned down, and said, “I need to talk with you, and I’m not even sure of your name.”
“It’s Zachary, sir.”
“I need to talk in private. Would you be willing to stand by the mainmast and talk with me at four bells of the middle watch?”
“Are you ordering me to?” Zachary didn’t like Mr. Stanley and had little desire to talk with him.
“No, I’m asking you… Please.”
Zachary thought. He was reluctant, but he was also puzzled. Why did the midshipman want to talk? He decided there was only one way to find out, so he said he’d be there, but if he didn’t like what was discussed he’d walk away.
“Thank you,” said the midshipman and walked away across the quarter deck.
Night fell, and at midnight the eight bells rang announcing the beginning of the middle watch. At four bells, Zachary went to the mainmast. Midshipman Stanley was already there, pacing nervously. Speaking in a very quiet voice, he said, “First, I need to thank you for saving me from that ghastly pirate.”
“I was only doing what I saw as my duty, sir,” Zachary replied.
“For right now, could we do away with the ‘mister’ and the ‘sir’? I hate them both.”
Zachary was surprised at that, but he nodded.
“Please for now just call me Caleb.”
Again Zachary nodded.
“I have been feeling so lonely and I needed to talk with someone. I hoped you would be that someone.”
“Why are you unhappy?” asked Zachary in surprise. “You are already an officer, and you have a wonderful future ahead of you.”
“That’s just it,” replied Caleb. “I don’t want that future. I’m only in the navy because my father enlisted me. I hate it. I hate the ship, I hate the officers, I hate the food, and most of all I hate the fighting. I’m sure if there’s another battle, unless someone like you is there to save me, I shall die, and I don’t feel as if I’ve really lived yet.”
As Zachary listened, he began to understand why the boy was unhappy. “Why did your father make you enlist?” he asked.
Caleb sighed. “He wants me to learn to be a captain so I can sail one of his merchant ships. As if that wasn’t bad enough, his ships bring slaves to the southern states, and I hate slavery. I won’t do it!”
“I don’t understand. What do you want from me? I can’t help you.”
“I just want you to listen and talk to me. I guess I want to know if I’m such a bad person like the other midshipmen say. They tell me I’m useless and stupid. I may be useless on a ship and especially in a battle, but I’m not stupid. I just can’t figure out all the math I need for navigation and of course I’m no good with a sword, as you saw.”
“So what do you want to do?”
“Do you really want to know? It might make you an accomplice.”
“Accomplice to what?”
“You won’t tell?”
“How can I answer that when I don’t know what you’re talking about?”
“I guess I’ll have to trust you… The first chance I get, I want to desert. I want to put this ship and the ocean as far behind me as I can.”
“Why don’t you just wait until the end of the voyage?”
“I don’t know if I can.”
“You may have to. The officers seem to be very careful about watching for deserters whenever we’re in port. But let’s suppose you did desert, maybe in Gibraltar. What would you do then?”
Caleb thought for a moment and said, “I don’t know. I’ll have to think about that some more. Can we meet again at this time in two days?”
Zachary was intrigued by the conversation, and while he still wasn’t ready to accept the boy as a comrade, he did want to find out what he was going to do. He agreed to meet again, and they parted.
During the two days, he thought about what he could say to Caleb. He realized that the midshipman was being terribly unrealistic and very naïve about what could happen to him in a foreign port. By the afternoon of the second day, he had come to a decision.
That night, again at four bells of the middle watch, he went to the mainmast and waited.
Caleb appeared, a little out of breath, apologizing that he had to wait to leave his bunk until the wardroom was empty.
“Caleb,” said Zachary, “I need to tell you about what happened to me, because I think it would be very dangerous for you to desert.” When Caleb said nothing, Zachary told him about losing his parents, about running away from the orphanage. He repeated his tale of being attacked and hurt by Max. “The point is,” he said, “that you’re young and very vulnerable. You’re not a fighter and, frankly, you’re really good looking which makes you more vulnerable. You wouldn’t get through one night alone in Gibraltar or any other port without being badly hurt and possibly killed. Don’t even think about deserting… Please.”
Caleb was silent for a long time before he asked, “Is it really that dangerous?” Zachary nodded, saying, “Don’t try to go.”
At last Caleb agreed.
Before they parted, Caleb said that he hoped Zachary was becoming a friend and he wondered if they could continue meeting. Zachary agreed.
So, every other night, at four bells, the boys met in the shadows beside the main mast. They were not completely hidden, but they could think of no other place to meet.
One night, as Zachary walked towards his hammock after talking with Caleb, one of the men in his gun crew stopped him.
“What are you doing with that excuse of an officer?” he asked.
Zachary thought about what to say, before asking, “Do you promise not to tell anyone?”
The man chuckled and replied, “The whole crew knows you’re meeting with him. That could be dangerous if another officer found out.”
“Are you threatening me?”
“Not at all. I don’t really care what you do. I’m just warning you that you both could be in real trouble.”
“He needs a friend,” said Zachary. “He’s very unhappy and I’m just there because he says he needs someone he can talk to.”
The man smiled and said, “Well, be careful. That’s all I can say. Nobody on the crew is going to tell an officer about this.”
Zachary thanked the man and returned to his hammock.
When the Bradford and the merchant ship arrived at Gibraltar, they both anchored in the harbor to lay in supplies before they parted, the merchant ship to go south to a port in western Africa and the brig to return to Tripoli. Food and water were brought to the brig and stowed by the crew.
When she was ready, the Bradford sailed out of the harbor and headed back southeast. Twice they passed Arab ships, but neither captain wanted a confrontation, so they passed while crew members stood at the rails and yelled insults at each other. Since the brig’s crew spoke no Arabic and the palacca’s crew spoke no English, they all ended up laughing and waving to each other.
Back outside Tripoli harbor, the Bradford again joined in the blockade.